Gunpowder & Lead
by ilovetvalot
Summary: The consequences of one violent night have lasting ramifications for Jennifer Jareau. NEW EPIC
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._

_Second, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_

_First, we have opened our next challenge to participants. "The Future Fic Challenge" thread is open on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Rules and explanation of the challenge are there as well. In short, choose one character and get assigned a random secondary character to tell a story set in the year 2022. It looks like a lot of fun._

_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._

_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of April, anyone that reviews a Hotch related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._

_This week's author of the week is the talented klcm. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter One**

Gunpowder and lead. That's what I remember about that night.

It's the unmistakable stench that permeated everything around me. In my hair. In my clothes. Every time I took a breath of air, it was there, seared into my nostrils. Even now, I still smell that sickening burn. No matter how many times I wash my hands, I think it's there.

I know it's there. It can't be washed away and it can't be forgotten. I couldn't be that easy.

After I pulled the trigger, I was deafened. I couldn't hear a thing…just this odd ringing. I knew Henry was screaming his poor head off, but I knew it the way a mother knows her child is in danger….the hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I just _knew_. He didn't see it, thank God. I managed to preserve at least that much of his innocence.

People keep telling me that I didn't have a choice. But, there's always a choice, isn't there? And our choices always affect the people around us, don't they? How do I one day explain to my little boy that my choice changed his life forever? How do I tell him I'm the reason he doesn't have a daddy?

I keep running through it in my mind when I'm awake…I dream about it on those rare moments when I actually sleep now. But I can never change what happened…..

I've asked myself a dozen times, why did I stay….why didn't I ask for help…why did I let my stupid pride keep me from telling somebody? I ask and ask and ask…but I never come up with any answers.

A lady at work stopped me at the water fountain yesterday….she touched my arm and told me…and I'm quoting here…that "the bastard had it coming". I've been getting that a lot lately. From friends and family. From perfect strangers. For the life of me though, I'm still not convinced they're right.

Penelope asked me what it would take to make me believe it. Morgan…he made me look at the pictures they took of me that night….his version of therapy, I guess. I saw the x-rays of my broken ribs…the pictures of my dislocated shoulder…my bruised face….all of it. He wanted me to see what had been done to me…to really _see_ it and not just think it was all an over-exaggeration.

All I saw staring back at me was a damn fool. Someone that fell for the lines…made the excuses…took the bait, hook, line and sinker.

And then I got angry.

I wasn't raised to be so stupid. I've seen evil. I've _arrested _evil.

I just wish I knew how I could have allowed myself to fall in love with pure evil.

How the _hell_ did I let it all happen?

These are the questions I've been asking myself for days now. Days. For days I've been reliving every minute, every second…every nanosecond. I played the mental video ad nauseum, searching for moments when I could have rearranged the events of the past to create a new future that was sure as hell not this one that I am currently living.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, you know. I mean, I volunteered in a freaking domestic violence shelter in college, for Christ's sake. The signs that point to a battered woman are unmistakable. If somebody had asked me a year ago if I would ever fit that mold, I would have laughed myself silly. After all, I was educated, wasn't I? I had years of training that others didn't.

Pride goeth before a fall, I guess. Right? I allowed my mistaken sense of pride and disbelief at the entire situation to negate everything I knew in my heart. I fell into the same trap that every other battered (oh, how I hate that word) woman falls victim to.

I've become a statistic. Yet another number in the criminal database that gets recorded and aggregated with thousands of others around the nation. Tallied and published for the masses' well-being.

Well, to be fair, I guess I'm now in two databases. Once is for being the victim. And the other for being the one holding the weapon.

Garcia's told me, in that tone that tone she uses to brook no argument, that I was every woman's hero. Yeah, right. What I had to do was not heroic in any sense of the word. She tried to tell me that it didn't matter about the past but all that mattered was that my future would be better now.

I barely resisted the urge to scream at the word better. Who defines better? Better was supposed to be a life with a man that would love me and love the child we created together, wasn't it? Better was taking a job that would allow me to spend time with my son and family, wasn't it? And yet both of those supposedly "better" decisions suddenly turned to "worse" almost overnight, a lightning strike out of the clear blue sky when my world moved from calm and collected to a living nightmare.

A nightmare that's lasted for months upon months and grown increasingly darker and darker, no matter what I tried to bring the light back into to our lives.

But that failed, too. Everything failed. I've lived my life believing that there's a sunny side to every situation, no matter how hard the rain may be falling.

And I'm tired. Not the "I need a nap, tired". This is a bone deep exhaustion sucking at my soul, sapping every last bit of my energy. Everyone says that it will get better if I'll make my peace with my choices. How do I do that when there isn't any way to reach it? Your parents tell you that life is filled with endless opportunities when you're a kid…the world is your oyster and all that crap. But that's not true is it?

Life is meant to be endured. There's no reward for good deeds and works. There's pain. A lot of pain. I think it would be a lot easier if they'd just tell you the truth up front. Of course, nobody does, do they?

_****0000****_

Drawing a deep shaky breath, Jennifer Jareau turned her head to the right slightly, eyeing the man beside her narrowly, the ugly story now between them.

"So, you tell me, Father Jimmy. What do you do when everything you ever thought you knew turns out to be a lie? How do you believe again?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._

_Second, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_

_First, we have opened our next challenge to participants. "The Future Fic Challenge" thread is open on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Rules and explanation of the challenge are there as well. In short, choose one character and get assigned a random secondary character to tell a story set in the year 2022. It looks like a lot of fun._

_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._

_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of April, anyone that reviews a Hotch related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._

_This week's author of the week is the talented Flames101. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Two**

Jimmy Davison hadn't always been a priest.

He'd been a man once. Just a man with all the primal emotions that went along with the masculine specimen God had made in His image. Some particularly judgmental individuals would have even called him a hell raiser. Most proclaimed that becoming a man of the cloth had been more necessity than choice as surely it would be the only way someone like him could enter through the Pearly Gates into Paradise.

And at times like this…staring into the stony face of a woman that had seen far too much tragedy in her young life…he privately thought that those people that had so harshly judged him during his adolescence might have been on to something. Because the beast that still resided deep inside him roared in outrage at what had been done to this innocent before him….and the man he still was deep inside desperately wanted to unleash himself from his vows to God for just a few moments to exact vengeance.

Of course, there was no one left to punish. JJ had already exacted justice on her tormenter.

Sighing heavily, he considered his response to the young woman's question. He'd have to be oblivious not to notice the bitterness coloring her question or the devastation clouding those normally bright eyes of hers. It wasn't like he hadn't faced this quandary before today. Countless times, he'd sat here in his Father's house and counseled the hopeless, offering comfort and advice to those tortured souls that sought him out. It wasn't just his job; it was his calling.

But she was different in so many ways.

First of all, he knew her. Not well, but enough to know that his usual line about a brighter tomorrow would have as much chance of working as a pig cropping wings and lifting to flight within the church they sat inside. Jennifer Jareau was savvy enough to spot bull crap at twenty paces, let alone if it was sitting right beside her.

And secondly and most importantly, he couldn't blame her for how she felt. Her life had been turned upside down in a few violent moments and her life would never be the same. She was entitled to her anger.

"Well?" he heard her prod him, almost impatiently. It was patently clear that she considered these mandatory sessions to be grossly unfair and a remarkable waste of her time. When David Rossi had contacted him a week ago and asked him if he'd counsel his friend through this difficult time, he'd been unaware of just how resistant to the concept Jennifer Jareau actually was. In a few short minutes at the beginning of their session, she had concisely clarified the situation for him. Her description of the events that had transpired had been stark, horrifying and an honest recounting of the night Will LaMontagne had died at her hands.

But he sensed there was far more to it.

The truth shined in her expressive eyes.

And it was a chilling sight to behold…even to someone that had heard the confessions of killers and thieves.

"The party line would be to tell you to put your faith in God, JJ," he replied softly, wincing slightly as he noted her tightening lips.

Snorting her derision, JJ glared at the man dressed in black beside her. "Really?" she spat, one brow arching almost defiantly. "That's what you're going to hand me? Put my faith in some nameless, faceless _God," _she continued with a sneer.

"In my defense, I said it was the party line," Jimmy offered quietly, his tone calm and even. "I know it's not as simple as that, JJ."

"You're damn right, it's not," JJ snapped, her fist balling, fingernails biting into her palm. "_Your God. Your God_, Father, took a vacation day when I needed him most. Your God abandoned me and my son to the mercy of someone that had evolved into a demon the likes of which not even Satan wanted him in his kingdom. _Your God_ ignored my prayers that night, so, I somehow doubt that _your God_ can help me now."

"He's _our_ God, JJ," Jimmy corrected her gently. "And God heard your prayers."

"Then where was he when I asked him for His help?" JJ rasped, shaking with emotion and hating herself for the weakness.

"Sometimes, his answer is no, JJ, and we simply don't get to know why," Jimmy stated evenly. "I like to think He was there with you that night. You lived when you and your son very well could have died. Others have perished in the face of such violence, my child."

"We're alive because of the actions that _I_ was forced to take," JJ bit out forcefully, stiffening. "Don't you dare give the credit to God for my survival!"

"Fair enough," Jimmy acknowledged as he nodded, leaning back in his chair. "But who gave you the strength that you needed? Were you born with it? Did you learn it? Or, just maybe do you owe it to a power greater than yourself?"

"What does it matter? By your God's standards, my actions have doomed me to an eternity in Hell," JJ whispered, her earlier defiant tone suddenly fading, replaced with a hopelessness that had threatened to overtake her for far too long.

"God doesn't doom you, Jennifer. Mortals do that for themselves in the actions they take. It's a choice. No sin is so great that it can't be forgiven by asking," Jimmy pointed out evenly.

"I don't want or need your divine forgiveness, Father Jimmy," JJ replied, lifting her chin defiantly once again. "I don't want it. I'm _not_ sorry. I endured Will's mood swings and temper for months. I dealt with the pushing and shoving because I _tried_ to give him the benefit of the doubt. When he slapped me, I always picked myself up off the floor. But when he turned his venom toward our son, I fought back. I pulled the trigger. I don't regret it. I don't!"

"Then why are you crying, JJ?" Jimmy questioned tenderly, his heart breaking for the young woman sitting with him.

Shaking her head vigorously, JJ forced herself to reign in her emotions. God, why did he have to keep asking questions? Why couldn't anyone allow her to deal with this in her own time in her own way?

"Why are you here, JJ?" Jimmy asked softly after a moment, studying her delicate face, so stony now. "Really. Just give me an honest answer. That's all I ask of you."

"Because, Father, my choices were few. It was either _you_ or the Bureau shrink. Frankly, you were the lesser of my two offered evils."

And with those words, Jennifer Jareau had drawn her battle lines.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Okay, first, thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting our stories. We truly appreciate your comments._

_First, we want to offer you a quick rundown of activities and threads that are ongoing at the forum:_

_We've also introduced a "Help Wanted" thread to the forum for authors that are looking for assistance with various writing complications that come up. Perhaps you want someone to bounce ideas with, or maybe you need a beta….this is the place to post an ad for what you are looking for. We've also reopened the "Chat Chat Among the Authors" thread to discuss spoilers or ask questions. The "Getting to Know YOU…Tell us about yourself" thread is open. Swing by there to introduce yourself whether you are a reader or an author. We'd love to meet you._

_And lastly don't forget our "Pay It forward Review Incentive Program". From now until the end of MAY, anyone that reviews a ROMANCE related story is eligible to win an gift card. Details found on thread at forum._

_This week's author of the week is the talented Bren Gail. Please swing by that thread to ask questions about their writing and/or stories. In addition, there are several other threads open for comment. We hope to see each of you there._

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Three**

Watching as Jennifer Jareau flew out the church door as though the hounds of hell nipped at her heels, Jimmy sighed. Pausing a moment as he stared at the back of his church, he called, "C'mon out, Davey! I know you're back there!"

Watching as his old friend stepped out of the shadows, Jimmy smiled. Rossi was nothing if not predictable when it came to someone he cared deeply for…and the look in his old friend's eyes assured him that this was no passing interest he held for the young, fair Jennifer.

"Out for an afternoon stroll?" Jimmy asked dryly as the other man slowly walked down the center aisle. "Or was it just the joy of seeing my welcoming face that has you popping in?" He smirked, turning to make his way to his office in the back.

"Cut it out, Jimbo," Dave growled as he closed the door to the Priest's office. "How is she?" Dave asked bluntly as he watched the silver haired man slip behind his desk and sink tiredly into his worn rolling chair.

Grimacing, Jimmy reminded himself that he'd known he was going to have a problem with Dave when he'd agreed to counsel JJ. "We've had this discussion, Dave. Before I ever agreed to meet with her, I told you that I couldn't discuss what she told me with you."

"It's not as though you've got the AMA breathing down your neck, Jimmy," Dave complained under his breath as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and paced in front of the good Father's desk.

"No, the American Medical Association is the least of my concerns," Jimmy agreed wryly. "I'm afraid I answer to a much, much higher power, Dave," he replied, tugging his white collar for emphasis. "You know, the one on High," he said, pointing at the ceiling.

"It's not confession, Jim," Dave grumbled as he rolled his eyes at his longtime friend. "It's counseling."

"And it's just as confidential," Jimmy reiterated sternly, fighting with the bottom drawer of his desk. Finally freeing the stubborn drawer, he sent a silent thanks heavenward. He didn't drink in the normal course of a work day, but then again, today had been anything but mundane. Hefting two glasses onto his scarred desk, he eyed Rossi. "You want?" he asked, holding up the dusty bottle of scotch.

"What do you think?" Dave retorted sarcastically, glaring across the desk at the man of the cloth.

"Truthfully, I think you wish you could catch me for five minutes outside this Holy Institution and beat the dog snot out of me until I told you what you want to know," Jimmy said unworriedly, pouring two fingers of scotch into each glass.

Reaching across the desk to snag one of the tumblers, Dave offered him a rueful grin. "Sometimes I forget how well you know me, old man."

"I forget nothing," Jimmy replied, tapping his temple. "It's like a steel trap up here. Reinforced with razor wire," he added, his solemn gaze reminding Dave that he took his oaths seriously.

"Point taken, _Father,_" Dave muttered, sipping the amber colored scotch. Silent for a moment, he met Jimmy's eyes. "I just want to help her, Jim."

"I know you do, Dave," Jimmy sighed, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the desk. "But counseling is pointless if she can't trust me. I can't and won't betray her confidences. I wouldn't be much of a therapist if I did and I'd be even less of a man of God."

"I know," Dave conceded reluctantly, staring into his glass.

"Anything you want to get off _your_ chest?" Jimmy asked softly, instinctively knowing that JJ wasn't the only soul in pain that he'd seen today. He was looking at a tortured man.

Shaking his head, Dave's jaw clenched. "I've been over it and over it in my mind," he confided softly. "I don't know how the hell I missed all the signs."

"Maybe she didn't want you to see them. She's a trained professional, Dave. Unconsciously, perhaps she covered the signs. How many times have you told me that you never can really know what's in a profiler's mind?"

Lifting his gaze, Dave stared at his friend. "I'm supposedly the best, Jimmy."

"Even the best fall down sometimes," the priest countered. "You just have to learn something from it and move forward."

"It's not as easy as you make it sound," Dave grunted, drawing another sip from the tumbler.

"If it was easy, I'd be out of a job," Jimmy replied evenly, leaning his head back against his chair. "This wasn't your fault, Dave. It wasn't her fault. It was…"

"…if you say, 'God's will', I'm out of here," Dave warned, dropping his glass on the desk with a thud.

"I was going to say that it was a tragedy. Even from the greatest of tragedies, we can find solace. With time and effort, one can find peace."

Fidgeting in his chair, Dave inhaled deeply. "Next you'll be telling me to 'Use the force, Dave'."

"The only force I may be using is shoving your sorry oversized head into the toilet to wake you up," Jimmy snorted as he tapped his fingers against the worn wood of his desk. "Focus your energy on what you can help, Dave. Stop looking backward."

"And how exactly do I do that? How do I help her?" Dave asked tiredly, willing the man sitting across from him to offer some inspired words of wisdom.

"Be there," Jimmy answered even as Dave's eyes damned him. "Do what you've been doing. Be her friend."

"That's your advice? Be there?" Dave huffed, rolling his eyes. "I hope you offer JJ better advice than that! Why did I even bother showing up?" he muttered.

"Free booze?" Jimmy asked, holding up his glass.

"There is that," Dave sighed, reaching for his own glass again. "She'll come through this, won't she, Jimmy?" Dave asked huskily.

"That's entirely up to her," Jimmy told him truthfully. "But, I won't give up," he assured Dave with a grim look, raising his glass in a toast.

Lifting his glass, Dave clinked it gently to his oldest friend's. "Neither will I," he vowed solemnly.

* * *

_**Guys, I'd appreciate any feedback you could offer. For those that have time, please pop off a review. For those that don't, thank you all for reading!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE**: _Just a quick explanation to those of you not aware of what's been happening in the wonderful world of fanfic. Recently, www. fanfiction. net has been doing a mass purge of all the "M" rated stories on their site. In an effort to avoid my work being taken down for good, I, instead, chose to take them down myself until the purge is over and everything has settled down. In the meantime, I will continue to publish my "T" and below rated work on www. fanfiction. net, while my "Mature Adult" rated work (for the time being only) is going to be published at The Writers Coffee Shop ( www. thewriterscoffeeshop library/ viewuser. php?uid=59099… remove the spaces to make this into a real web address). Please contact me if you need further directions. Direct links to the currently updated story can be found on my facebook page at Ilovetvalot fanfiction_

_In order to access the stories on The Writers Coffee Shop, you will need to register for an account (they guard the M-rated stories from young eyes). It is completely free and takes about 1 minute to complete the registration process! Once you are at The Writers Coffee Shop, click Login in the upper right corner. Then choose Register in the middle of the page. Follow the directions to register, and remember that you don't have to complete any of the fields that don't have asterisks! We hope you'll take the short trip to our new home for our more mature work and visit us soon!_

_The good news is that as I repost stories there, they are getting an OVERHAUL. That's right, folks! New stuff is being added to old stories. Also, two of my ongoing epics (because of their mature content) are only being published there as well. "Touched by an Angel" and "You Found Me" are the epics that are only available there! They are now uploaded as well as rejuvenated stories, "Consuming Fires" (a Dave/Emily), "Afterglow (a Dave/JJ), "Tulips" (a Dave/Emily), "Delicious Depravity" (Rossi/Erin/Aaron), "A Little Less Talk" (a Hotch/Em/Rossi) and another ongoing epic, "Learning to Love Again". Come by and check it out!_

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Four**

Barely resisting the urge to slam her front door with more force than necessary, JJ consciously made her shoulders relax and turn to calmly close the entrance to her home, twisting the dead bolt with a flick of her fingers. That was just one more consequence of that brutal night…she was now almost a fanatic about safety. Triple locks on the doors. A security system to add an extra layer of precaution. Shaking her head, she knew it was stupid. After all, the evil she'd lived with had dwelled within the confines of her home. It hadn't been lurking in the shadows. Oh, no, she'd opened her life and heart and welcomed it inside.

_Idiot._

No measly lock could keep out her nightmares, however. And they stayed with her. Wherever she went, she carried them with her.

"Buttercup?" Penelope Garcia called out cheerfully from the kitchen of the apartment she'd rented, her voice loud in the quiet foyer. This place was a lot smaller than the brownstone she'd shared with Will, but staying there after everything that happened just hadn't been a possibility. Her apartment now was nice enough, though. She'd needed a new place to live and she'd needed it fast, steadfastly refusing to leave the hospital until she and Henry had somewhere else to go. Rossi and Hotch had found her new home on a day's notice. God alone knew how much Dave had offered the realtor to find something that met all her requirements…a playground for Henry…close to the Federal Building…but, somehow, he'd managed it. Between the men on her team, she and her son had only spent one night with Emily Prentiss while her things had been moved.

"It's me," JJ called back, pasting a smile on her face as she followed the sounds of Henry's laughter. Pausing in the door to the bright kitchen, she blinked as her son giggled, slamming his pudgy fingers into what appeared to be cookie dough. "Decide to do a little baking tonight, guys?" she asked, looking around at the flour covered kitchen counters.

"Well, we thought chocolate chip cookies sounded like a good bedtime snack after a long hard day of preschool, didn't we, my angel?" Pen grinned, tickling Henry's belly.

"Mmmm," Henry nodded, his cherubic cheeks puffing out as he grinned, rubbing his belly.

Chuckling at her child's theatrics, JJ slid her fingers through his longish blonde hair. He needed a haircut, she thought distantly. A common enough task, but just one more thing she'd allowed to slip through the cracks lately. Plucking a cooled cookie off the nearby rack, she presented it to her son with a flourish. "Just one, Peanut," she said gently. "Take and go get on your jammies. Mommy needs to thank Aunt Penelope for staying with you tonight."

Waiting until the child had scampered toward his room, JJ turned to face her best friend. "Thanks for staying, Pen. The sitter agreed to work two extra evenings a week starting next week. I really thought I'd be home earlier," she apologized as she winced. "But afterward…I just needed some time to think."

Looking up from wiping the counter, Penelope asked tentatively, "You wanna talk about it, Peaches?" She'd learned the hard way not to push when it came to this. Counseling was an incredibly sore subject with her bestie. Everybody knew JJ didn't want to talk about THAT night. Everyone was equally aware that until she did, she was never going to heal. And that wasn't something any of them had been willing to allow happen.

Erin Strauss had been the person, remarkably, that had solved the problem. She'd simply taken the decision out of JJ's hands, ordering the young agent into Bureau mandated therapy as a condition to continued employment. Luckily, there wasn't much arguing with policy.

Rossi had pulled some strings and called in some favors in order for JJ to see Father Jimmy rather that the Bureau shrink, and the young woman had done marginally better with accepting the fact that therapy was to be a part of her foreseeable future. Marginally, but not by much. There wasn't a single person she hadn't informed about the pointless waste of time this was….but she'd gone for her first session this afternoon.

As first steps went, it was a big one.

Too bad her best gal pal didn't look any better for having taken it, Garcia thought worriedly. If anything, JJ looked worse than she had when she'd reluctantly left the office.

Shrugging, JJ's face became impassive. "There's not a lot to say."

_Yeah, right, _Penelope thought wearily. That was part of the problem. JJ had gotten so used to suffering in silence…so proficient at hiding her pain…that none of them, _not even her_, had realized anything was amiss until it had been too late to throw her a lifeline. And God, how that ate at her soul.

"Father Jimmy is a nice guy, though," Penelope ventured carefully. She'd worked with the aging priest for years through her Victims of Violent Crime support group. She'd seen him in action with more than one traumatized soul. The man had God on his side, but he was also packing a pretty impressive intuitive mind. Wicked smart, he not only served his God, but a bevy of patients that would never have been able to afford help otherwise.

"As good as any shrink, I guess," JJ mumbled, busying herself with searching the fridge for a drink. Something…anything to distract her from Pen's surprising serious gaze leveled on her. Grasping a Diet Coke, she popped the tab and took a long pull from the can.

"Sweetums, you know for any of this to do any good at all, you've got to at least _try_ to cooperate," Pen reminded the other woman softly.

Finally turned her pained gaze toward her friend, JJ shook her head. "Why can't any of you understand that I don't _want_ to do this. I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm not being stubborn. I simply want to move on with my life. Rehashing what happened week after week won't change anything, Pen. At the end of every session, Will is still going to be dead. And I'm still going to be the one that pulled the trigger. What's the point?"

And as far as Jennifer Jareau was concerned, that was the last word she was going to utter about the matter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Five**

Curling one arm around the spare pillow on her bed, JJ closed her eyes. Garcia was long gone, having left a couple of hours ago after offering to stay with her no less than three times. The woman had taken extra convincing tonight that she would be okay. And if JJ had been in her shoes, she couldn't deny she'd have been more than a little reluctant to leave Pen.

After unloading on her best friend in the kitchen, JJ's gut had clenched when the technical whirlwind had gotten unusually quiet. Penelope Garcia's silence was often an omen to impending doom...one she might have deserved. Luckily, even after her temperamental outburst, the sweet natured woman still considered her a friend, forgiving her easily with a hug and a whispered word.

Shaking her head against the cool cotton beneath her cheek, JJ forced herself to take a deep breath. She regretted dumping her hostility on Pen. She really did. But, what she'd said, she'd meant. She didn't want to continue rehashing what had happened with Will week after week. She still didn't see what purpose it could serve. Nothing could be changed. When her mandated therapy ended, he'd still be dead and she'd still be guilty of sending him to his final resting place.

She'd been round and round it in her head, reliving each moment of that vile final night. Why couldn't anyone just leave it the hell alone and let her move on with her life?

Closing her eyes, she pleaded with a God she wasn't sure existed anymore for just a few peaceful hours of respite.

Too bad that God didn't always answer prayers. There were times a woman had to face the darkness all on her own.

$$0000$$

_She knew from the second she let herself in the door that it was going to be a bad night. Will's seething eyes as he bolted out of his recliner told her so. His body virtually vibrated with barely contained rage as he stalked toward her._

"_Where the hell have you been?" he asked harshly as she closed the door, her hand trembling a little as she flipped the deadbolt into place._

"_You know where I've been," JJ replied tiredly, her shoulders sagging as she tried to prepare herself for the oncoming argument she knew awaited her. "I told you with Spence out this week with his mom, I'd be putting in longer hours, Will."_

"_It's always some excuse with you, isn't it, chere?" Will spat, gripping her arm in a cruel grip and whirling her to face him, her back hitting the door with enough force to steal her breath. _

_Glancing dispassionately at the hand he had wrapped around her forearm, she distantly thought she'd need to pull out some of her long sleeved silk shirts. His hand would leave another bruise. Usually, he was more careful than that. It was just another indication of how clearly enraged he was. "I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of Henry in the other room. "Just let me…"_

"_Let you what?" he barked, moving his other hand to grip her neck, pinning her to the door as he contricted his fingers around the delicate flesh. "Make another excuse?" he whispered against her lips, his breath tinged with Jack Daniels._

_The smell revolted her, and she twisted her face away from him, angering him further. "Look at me, bitch," he demanded, his fingers biting into her now, cutting off her airway. Quickly shifting her gaze back to his, her mouth went dry at the lack of emotion she saw reflected in his eyes. "Will, please," she whimpered, gasping for air._

"_Please what?" he sneered before crashing his lips against her, biting her lips and punishing her. "Please forgive you?" he growled as he ground his torso against hers, the bulge of his erection prodding her. "You know what you have to do now," he warned sinisterly. "Beg, JJ. Beg, goddamn you!" he ordered before releasing her neck to backhand her across her cheek._

"_Please!" she whimpered, blinking back pain as the stinging ache from his slap spread. "I'm sorry!"_

"_Not good enough," he snarled, fisting his hand in her ponytail and jerking her across the room. "You're really going to need to do better than that this time, chere," he said with a bitter smile before shoving her backward on the sofa and reaching for the buckle of his belt. "You were late again! Again, JJ! Didn't you learn your lesson last night?" he thundered as Henry's wails from the next room wafted over them._

"_Will, please!" JJ begged, trying to scramble from underneath him. "The baby…."_

"_Fuck the kid, bitch!" he hissed against her ear as he pried her legs apart, vicious in his assault. "You're taking care of me now! I come first!" he yelled, ripping her shirt and scattering buttons across the couch._

"_No!" JJ screamed, struggling to get away. "Will, no!" she pleaded as she tried to push him off her. She had to get to the baby! Henry needed her._

"_Fight, bitch," Will laughed maniacally, his eyes bright. "I love it when you fight me," he whispered demonically, pinning her against the couch as he ripped her panties and drove into her._

_$$0000$$_

"Noooooo!" her shrill scream echoed in her darkened bedroom as she jolted awake, her chest heaving as she clawed at the covers. Looking frantically around the room, she slowly realized that it had been a dream…a memory.

Not real. Or at least not real anymore.

Pushing back the comforter, she stumbled to the bathroom as her stomach contracted. Bending over the toilet she retched violently, shaking with emotion as shoved her hair back.

Finally straightening, she flushed the commode and leaned heavily against the sink, her breath still coming in labored pants. Turning, she rinsed her mouth, swishing cool water around her teeth before spitting in the porcelain sink. Wetting a washcloth with a trembling hand, she pressed it against her face and reminded herself that she and her boy were safe.

Damn them for doing this to her, she thought bitterly, staring at her ghostly reflection in the mirror. This is what therapy had bought her? A return of her nightmares?

Padding unsteadily pack into the bedroom, she curled in the center of her bed, still terrified. Reaching for the phone without any real consideration, she dialed a familiar number….

The same number she'd dialed that long ago night.

She only hoped he'd answer now as he'd done then.

* * *

_Hello, friends! If you've been looking for our M-rated stories, we've found a new home for them! After fanfiction. net began to purge M-rated stories that were questionable according to their Terms of Service, we voluntarily removed our stories and are in the process of loading them on The Writer's Coffee Shop (thewriterscoffeeshop DOT com...make that a real address)._

_To find us, visit TWCS and then choose Library. Then click Authors, choose the I category, then ilovetvalot. Our stories will be listed for you to read!_

_If the story is rated M or NC-17 on that site, registration is required (so they can control the age of the viewers). It only takes about a minute to set up an account! Click Library, then choose Register from the left-side menu. Fill in the information requested (and you only have to give the information that is required with astericks!). You will receive a confirmation email and then be able to view all sorts of amazing stories!_

_We are continuing to post on , and we enjoy this site very much. However, in order to be in compliance with 's rules, we will be posting our M-rated stories at TWCS, and we will also post certain chapters of our epic stories at TWCS if the chapter strays into the M-rating. We will be updating our profile page very soon to provide you with links and to keep everyone updated on exactly where our stories are located!_

_**TODAY, WE UPDATED OUR ROSSI/GARCIA EPIC, "TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL", AT THE WRITERS COFFEE SHOP. STOP BY AND CHECK OUT CHAPTER 15, ALONG WITH SOME OTHER FUN STORIES ALREADY UPLOADED THERE!**_

_We truly appreciate your continued support, and we look forward to providing you with many more stories in the future! Again we apologize for any inconvenience this causes our readers!_


	6. Chapter 6

**FORUM NEWS: Several fun things going on NOW on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum on !**

**1. The July Challenge, "The Crossover Challenge" is now up and available or sign ups at Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Please join us. The rules are simple. Choose one tv character from another show, past or present and get randomly assigned one of the CM crew to pair your chosen character with. Signups are thru July 1****st****. ****TODAY IS THE LAST DAY FOR SIGN UPS!**

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**5. The thread "The Dog Days of Summer" mini-challenge. Come by and write a story for this fun summer challenge.**

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Six**

The red numbers on the clock were obviously mocking him. That was the only explanation for why they were moving at the slowest speed known to mankind.

Lying flat in his bed, David Rossi stared up at the planks of his hardwood ceiling, moonbeams streaming across the walls and flashing random patterns in his peripheral vision. Sighing, he bunched his pillow behind his head as he tried to find a spot more conducive to sleeping. But even as he kicked at the quilts, he knew his efforts were in vain.

Sleep was obviously going to be fucking fickle once again.

Unable to resist glancing at the clock once more, Dave flopped back on the pillow as he glared at the offending instrument. The tall, narrow number one slowly inched upwards with the speed of a caterpillar trying to overtake a slug, the red number two obviously reluctant to take its place.

But it did. Finally.

Two o'clock. Damn if he was ever going to see a full night's sleep again.

It wasn't as if he had to have it. His body had grown accustomed to the two or three hours' slumber he usually grabbed a night. It was the way he filled those hours while he waited, the events of the last several weeks replaying over and over in his mind in a loop he couldn't change.

It had been about this time of night when JJ had called him. As usual, he'd been tossing and turning, walking that fine ledge between asleep and awake when the phone had trilled beside the bed. When he'd seen her name on the display, he'd immediately assumed they'd caught a case. The blonde liaison had called him more than once in the middle of the night to rouse him to the office. It had been a reasonable conclusion to draw.

But her phone call was unlike any he'd ever answered before…and unlike any he hoped to receive again.

Closing his eyes, he remembered.

_**$$000$$**_

_Groaning as the phone rang, he rolled to catch it before the obnoxious sound echoed in the darkened bedroom again Sparing a quick glance at the caller id, he grimaced. _

_J. Jareau._

_Jabbing his finger against the phone, he pressed it to his ear. "Aren't we on standown, JJ?" he growled by way of greeting, surly in his semi-awake state. "Seriously!"_

"_Dave?" her trembling voice queried, abnormally high and tight._

_Instantly straightening, he pressed the phone harder against his ear. It sounded like her breath was coming in small gasps. "Jen?"_

"_Please come," she whispered breathlessly. "Hurry," she begged._

_Heartbeat accelerating, Dave threw the covers off his legs. "Jennifer, what's wrong?" he asked, keeping his voice calm and low. "Where are you?"_

"_I tried to call H-hotch," she babbled frantically. "He d-didn't answer," she stammered, her voice shaking now. "I don't know what to do," she said through her chattering teeth._

_Standing now, Dave looked around the dark bedroom, trying to remember where he'd thrown his jeans. "Honey, I need you to take a deep breath," he ordered, keeping his voice kind, but stern. It was obvious something bad had happened and she was heading toward shock, "C'mon, one deep breath for me," he coached as he spotted his jeans draped over the armchair in the corner. Reaching for them, he pulled the pants over his legs as he listened to her pull in a raspy breath._

"_I killed him, Dave," she said weakly. "He's dead. I had to kill him," she rambled, a sob cracking her voice._

_His blood turned to ice in his veins as he listened to her. "Jennifer, who?" he asked sharply. "Are you in danger? Where's Will?" he barked, shoving an arm threw his shirt as he moved more quickly._

"_I told you. He's dead," she cried. "Dead, dead, dead, dead…."_

_Shaking of his lethargy, he swallowed. "Jennifer, listen to me. I'm on my way. I want you to hang up the phone and call the police, but do NOT say a word to them until I get there. Do you understand? Not one word." He wasn't sure what had caused the beautiful woman he worked with to pull the trigger on her long time partner, but he knew instinctively, whatever had happened, it was self-defense. It had to be. "Where's Henry? Where's the baby, sweetheart?" he asked, suddenly terrified for the innocent child._

"_R-room," she whispered. "He's in his room. He's safe. I had to keep him safe," she squeaked._

"_Of course, you did," Dave soothed, snatching his keys of the dresser and barreling down the stairs and out the front door. "Now, hang up the phone for me, JJ, and call the police. I'm already in the truck and on my way," he said, twisting the ignition violently as he shifted the truck into reverse, throwing gravel as he punched the accelerator._

_He heard her husky "Okay," before the phone disconnected. Gut clenched, he drove through the mostly deserted streets toward her brownstone, calling Aaron along the way. The younger man answered on the sixth ring, groggy and half asleep. He'd succinctly given the Unit Chief the scarce information he possessed._

"_I…Dave, are you sure?" Aaron asked, shaken._

"_Aaron, you know what I know," Dave retorted, running another red light as he sped down a city street. "I'm pulling up to her place now," he growled, braking as he swung his SUV into a parking slot as the first black and white cruiser drew up to the scene._

"_I'm on my way," Aaron replied, his voice terse. _

"_Local LEOs have arrived. Move your ass, Aaron," Dave demanded as he slammed the door shut behind him and jogged toward the uniformed cop climbing out of his car._

_He flashed his badge at the young officer and together they'd trudged up the steps, ringing the bell._

_Then, his heart had stopped entirely when Jennifer Jareau opened the door._

$$000$$

Jolting in the bed as the phone rang beside him, Dave felt the odd sensation of déjà vu descend over him as he turned his head and read the caller display.

Swallowing quickly as he reached for the phone, he answered with an urgent, "Jen?"

"Yeah, did I wake you?" she asked, her words clipped as she barreled on in the conversation. "Never mind, don't answer that. I don't care. This is your fault anyway," she sniffled.

"What is, cara?" Dave asked worriedly, sitting up in bed and rubbing his jaw.

"The damned nightmares," she retorted sharply, her tone tight. "They're back!"

And throwing off the covers, Dave nodded. "I'm on my way."

* * *

_Hello, friends! If you've been looking for our M-rated stories, we've found a new home for them! After fanfiction. net began to purge M-rated stories that were questionable according to their Terms of Service, we voluntarily removed our stories and are in the process of loading them on The Writer's Coffee Shop (thewriterscoffeeshop DOT com...make that a real address)._

_To find us, visit TWCS and then choose Library. Then click Authors, choose the I category, then ilovetvalot. Our stories will be listed for you to read!_

_If the story is rated M or NC-17 on that site, registration is required (so they can control the age of the viewers). It only takes about a minute to set up an account! Click Library, then choose Register from the left-side menu. Fill in the information requested (and you only have to give the information that is required with astericks!). You will receive a confirmation email and then be able to view all sorts of amazing stories!_

_We are continuing to post on , and we enjoy this site very much. However, in order to be in compliance with 's rules, we will be posting our M-rated stories at TWCS, and we will also post certain chapters of our epic stories at TWCS if the chapter strays into the M-rating. We will be updating our profile page very soon to provide you with links and to keep everyone updated on exactly where our stories are located!_

_**SEVERAL NEW AND REWRITTEN "M" STORIES HAVE BEEN REWRITTEN FOR THE WRITERS COFFEE SHOP, SO PLEASE GIVE A LOOK!**_

_We truly appreciate your continued support, and we look forward to providing you with many more stories in the future! Again, we apologize for any inconvenience this has caused any of you._


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum news: I'll try to keep it brief.**_

_August signups are open through July 31, 2012 for the "It's a Heat Wave Challenge!" Details can be found at the forum._

_New thread called, "What We're Reading Right Now!" is up and available for comment. We're asking readers and authors to tell us the first five books listed on their Kindle or e-reader (or, even their bookshelf)._

_Please check out an additional new thread called "Cover Girls…the New Option for covers on . Read and share helpful tips for creating story covers on the site._

_A continued thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, review, favorite and alert our stories here on this site. We truly enjoy hearing from each one of you. Also, please check out our "M" stories at __**The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS)**__ and a Brand New site run by fellow CM authors, Kavi Leighanna, Sienna27 and The Truth Between called __**Fractured-reality. Com**__. If anyone needs a link or direction to the new site, please feel free to contact us through either a private message or while leaving a review and we'll make sure to get back to you. Each former "M" story is getting an overhaul as we publish it AND there are new stories being added all the time there as well. Currently we are adding new and updated chapters to our very first femslash story, __**"FREEDOM OF A NEW EXPERIENCE"**__. Again, we'll be happy to answer any questions you have. As always, we own nothing other than our plots and original characters._

_**Also, for anyone following the story, "That's What She Said", the final chapter is available at both Fractured-Reality. Com and The Writers Coffee Shop.**_

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Seven**

He'd made this journey across town a half dozen time since that dark, dreary night when a demon had been sent back to hell. Often, he wondered if Aaron had answered his phone that evening when everything had changed, if he'd be the one making these treks in the middle of the night.

But it didn't matter. Fate in her capricious way had determined the course of events, and they were bound by the laws of the universe to fit into the assigned spaces. And if that meant a few trips out in the middle of the night, so be it.

Not that he was complaining. He would move heaven and earth for Jennifer and Henry, and he wasn't about to allow her to suffer without him there to at least offer some form of consolation or help, limited as it may be. For some reason that he couldn't quite fathom, she trusted him. He'd promised her that night that if she called, he'd always come, and he wouldn't break his word to her.

Not when the last guy that made her a promise had nearly killed not only her body, but her spirit.

Turning quickly into the small subdivision that had become the new home to JJ, Dave eased around the corner into the cul-de-sac of duplexes. Throwing his truck into park, he stepped out onto the darkened blacktop and made his way to her front door. Once again offering up a silent prayer of thankfulness for the realtor who had found this location in less than a day, he was raising his hand to knock when the door opened with a snap.

His eyes glanced over her pale, pinched face, and in a second he knew that the nightmares had obviously appeared with a vengeance once again. Stepping across the threshold, Dave shut the door behind them as he dropped a hand to the small of her back.

"Talk to me, JJ. Tell me what's going on."

"This is all your fault," JJ muttered from a throat still tightened with fear. "I told you this therapy crap wouldn't help me with anything. I was putting it behind me!" she bit out, padding barefoot into the dimly lit living room. "I was healing, damn it! And now, I'm right back to square one."

"Burying what happened isn't the same as dealing with it," Dave replied, falling into his default position easily as he followed her into the room. "Therapy was going to be mandatory no matter what I said or did," he reminded her gently.

"You could have bullied Strauss into signing off on my return. Don't you dare tell me that you don't have an entire deck of cards up your sleeve when it comes to her. I thought you liked me," she grumbled.

"I do." Dave yawned, shrugging off his jacket and dropping it over the back of what he'd come to consider "his" recliner. He'd spent enough nights in it during the last month. Hell, the cushion had his ass print in it. "That's why I talked her into allowing a therapist outside the Bureau to help you. Trust me, the shrink on staff would have you singing Kum-ba-ya and holding hands in a group session in a week. That guy is a quack."

"Dave," JJ groaned again, shaking her head as she glared at him. "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can," he returned easily. "C'mon, JJ, Father Jimmy isn't that bad, is he?"

"It's got nothing to do with Father Jimmy," JJ denied with a shrug. "I don't want to talk to _anyone_ about that night. Not him, not you, nobody. What's so hard about that to understand?" she asked desperately.

"We _all_ understand it, JJ," Dave replied softly. "We just don't agree with it. It's not healthy for you. Sooner or later, your psyche is going to crack under the strain. Ignoring what happened, pretending it didn't occur….trying to convince everyone that you're fine when you're not…it won't help you in the long run. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I would refute Erin Strauss' ability to breathe properly, Jen. But, in this, we're in accord."

"I hate you," JJ mumbled, curling into the corner of her couch as she glared at him.

"I'm okay with that." Dave shrugged, dropping into his chair and reclining it. "If you need somebody to hate, I'm more than willing to be your target, but that still won't change my mind."

"So, you won't talk to Strauss and at least try to postpone these sessions?" JJ asked plaintively, wrinkling her nose as she leaned her head against the back of the sofa.

"Nope," Dave denied flatly, clasping his hands over his stomach as he met her eyes squarely. "It won't be any easier in a day, a week, or a month."

"God, did you two get together and work out your party line," JJ complained, shoving her hair out of her face. "Because, I swear to God, that's exactly what she said earlier this afternoon!"

Smiling faintly at the irritation in JJ's eyes, he raised one eyebrow. "It's a sign of the apocalypse to be sure," he stated dramatically. "Strauss and I agree"!" Tilting his head, he pointed out gently, "You realize that she _was _one of your strongest supporters, Jen. That night, she made sure the ranks closed around you. It was her chance to disrupt the team…she could have, too…but, she took your side. I didn't even have to threaten her." Oh, he'd been prepared to, he thought grimly. If she'd made one wrong move toward JJ, he'd have cut her off at the knees. But surprisingly, the Section Chief hadn't been a concern. Compassionate and soft spoken, while the rest of their team had been in shock, moving on automatic pilot, she'd stepped in and dealt with local law enforcement, making it clear that if they wanted her federal agent, they'd have a hell of a fight on their hands. When the chips had been down, she'd had not only the team's back, but also JJ's own as well.

So, when she'd approached him about the Bureau mandated therapy after observing JJ at the shooting range a week ago, he'd supported her desire to see JJ made whole again. Hell, Jennifer couldn't hold a gun without her hand trembling. And, there was no way she could pull a trigger if she had to defend herself.

Therapy hadn't been optional; it had been a necessity.

Now, he had to convince the woman in front of him of that simple fact.


	8. Chapter 8

_**SPECIAL NOTE: SEPTEMBER signups are now open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. **_

_**Additionally, the steamy FINAL chapter of the Morgan/Garcia ficlet, "Sex on the Beach" available at both The Writers Coffee shop and Fractured-Reality. Com.**_

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Eight**

A niggling thought in the back of his mind slipped forward, and Dave drew in a deep breath as he made a quick decision. While this was not the tack he had originally been intending to take, it might just do the trick, he told himself.

Reaching to the side of the chair, Dave pulled the lever and put the recliner foot rest up as he said, "Did I ever tell you about the first time Jimmy bullied me into seeing a therapist?"

JJ's eyes widened almost comically as she stared at him in surprise. "The first time? You mean he's made you do it more than once?"

"He used his considerable powers of persuasion and a few well-placed threats the first time, Jen," Dave replied easily as he made himself comfortable. "The second time wasn't nearly as hard. And well, after that, I've kinda been able to do the deed without any divine intervention."

Reaching for the soft throw over the back of the sofa, JJ tucked it around her legs as she snorted. "How do I know you're not just trying to pull the wool over my eyes and lie to me, Dave? You're a profiler. You'll say whatever you need to get me to cooperate and I know it."

"While I am greatly wounded by your lack of faith in me, I can assure you that I'm telling the truth." Motioning toward the telephone on the side table, Dave smiled benignly. "Go ahead and call Jimmy if you don't believe me."

Something in his tone made her realize that her earlier disbelief obviously had been unfounded. "I believe you, Dave," JJ said softly. "I'm just….surprised. The image of you lying on a couch talking about your deep seating feelings of insecurity isn't something I can quite easily wrap my mind around."

"Smartass," Dave grumbled good naturedly. "As you're well aware, Jimmy doesn't _have_ a couch to lie on. And yes," he said quickly, seeing her eyes widen, "I chose Jimmy to talk to, too. He's a good guy to unload on when things get overwhelming."

"Uhmm." JJ cleared her throat uncertainly. "It's none of my business, but…"

"You wanna know why I needed to see somebody?" he asked perceptively, raising an eyebrow at her. Seeing her nod, he sighed. "The first time was because I was grieving. I'd just buried my son, and I'd divorced my first wife, Caroline. I was spiraling out of control, drinking way too much and refusing to deal with the blow life had dealt me. He bullied me into a session by threatening to tell my Mama I'd crawled into a bottle and refused to come out. My faith had been shaken. Over time, he helped me realize that I couldn't stop living because I'd lost something I cared about. All I could do was try harder to hold onto the things I had left."

Shocked, JJ stared at Dave. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly. "I didn't know."

Shrugging, Dave replied, "How could you? I've never told you before. Over the years, when things got rough, I'd often find myself gravitating back to Jimmy's office at the back of the church. It just seemed better than seeing a shrink in some generic doctor's office."

Hesitating a moment, JJ faltered. "You didn't ever feel…I don't know…weak….for needing to see him?" JJ asked nervously, uncertain how much she was revealing about herself with her question. "Wasn't there a time when you thought you should be able to handle things on your own?"

"Of course I did," Dave answered quietly. "I was raised in a family where we kept our personal lives private. A guy just didn't confide his problems to anybody, let alone a doctor. It was easier for me because not only was Jimmy qualified to hear me, but he was my Priest, too. It didn't feel quite so clinical when I was talking to him. The bottom line, however, was that if I hadn't have swallowed my pride and gotten help, I'd either be a raging alcoholic or dead. Jimmy really was the better option for me."

"People assume that I don't want help," JJ confided softly after several heartbeats of silence. "It isn't true though, Dave," she whispered. "I know that what happened; it damaged me. I'm not naïve. I'm aware of the ramifications of what I did."

"Ramifications?" Dave repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at JJ, her head bent as her fingers played anxiously with the frayed edge of the throw covering her.

"I killed Henry's father, Dave," JJ said huskily, her eyes clouding. "I'll have to answer for that in this life and the next. One day, I'll have to explain what I did to my son. And I'll have to explain it again when I die. I get two Judgment Days," she choked.

"JJ, you didn't murder him. You defended yourself, just like you would have against any unsub. This unsub just got a hell of a lot closer than the others usually do."

"I loved him," JJ confided shakily, the words coming out in a half-whisper. "I loved a monster. I lived with him. I had a child with him. And that whole time, deep down, I knew something wasn't right. I just ignored it…because it was easier…because it was more convenient to _not_ see the warning signs right in front of me. And then, later….I acted like a victim. I denied what was happening. I blamed myself. I made excuses for him. I fell right into that mold that we urge other women to break. I did that. But the difference is that I _knew_ better."

"You were scared, JJ. It's not a crime," Dave soothed softly. "You wanted to believe he could change what he was. You wanted your family to remain intact. It's a human response. You have to forgive yourself. You have to do it because if you don't, it's going to eat away at you until there isn't anything left, cara."

"I don't even know what's real anymore. I thought I loved Will. I thought I knew who he was. How do I ever trust my instincts again after that?"

"You start by taking things one moment at a time, Jen, and you go from there."

Nodding, JJ slid down the couch, resting her head against the throw pillow. "You'll stay?" she whispered shakily.

"For as long as you need," Dave promised as he nodded. "Close your eyes, Jen," he ordered gently. "I'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

_**Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum news: I'll try to keep it brief.**_

_SEPTEMBER signups are open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE!" Details can be found at the forum. _

_There is a new discussion thread available called, "W_HY ARE OUR READERS NOT REVIEWING? We asked, and our readers answered!" _Please check it out and leave a comment._

_We also have another discussion thread entitled __**"**_**The Ups and Downs of Writing an Uncommon Pairing**_**"**__. Please let us know what you think! _

_A continued thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, review, favorite and alert our stories here on this site. We truly enjoy hearing from each one of you. Also, please check out our "M" stories at __**The Writers Coffee Shop (TWCS)**__ and a Brand New site run by fellow CM authors, Kavi Leighanna, Sienna27 and The Truth Between called __**Fractured-reality. Com**__. If anyone needs a link or direction to the new site, please feel free to contact us through either a private message or while leaving a review and we'll make sure to get back to you. Each former "M" story is getting an overhaul as we publish it AND there are new stories being added all the time there as well._


	9. Chapter 9

_**SPECIAL NOTE: SEPTEMBER signups are open through AUGUST, 31, 2012 for the "THE MIX n MATCH CHALLENGE" and this is the LAST DAY to throw your hat in the ring. C'mon by and take a look. Details can be found at the forum. **_

_**AND NOW THE BIG NEWS- THE AWARDS SEASON HAS COMMENCED! Nominations have opened for the third annual Profiler's Choice Awards for Criminal Minds' fandom! Please visit Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for the nomination ballot, rules and guidelines and category definitions. Please review ALL information BEFORE submitting your nomination ballot. Ilovetvalot, Tonnie2001969, and HXChick are NOT eligible for ANY awards. PLEASE COME BY THE FORUM AND TAKE A LOOK. EVERY NOMINATION BALLOT IS IMPORTANT!**_

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Nine**

Watching silently from the platform above the bullpen as David Rossi silently followed Jennifer Jareau through the maze of desks below, Aaron Hotchner frowned. Even from this distance, he could spot the bruised smudges beneath JJ's eyes and noted the way Dave's shoulders seemed to slump from exhaustion. Waiting as the older man touched JJ's elbow lightly and bent his head to whisper something to her before trudging up the metal staircase, Aaron frowned.

"Late night?" Aaron asked knowingly as Dave nodded to him as he reached the landing.

"In here," Dave growled, jerking his head toward his office and leaving Aaron to trail after him. Dropping his briefcase on his desk as he sank into his office chair, he heard Aaron close the door behind him.

"I assume that you and JJ arrived together this morning?" Aaron asked casually, dropping into one of the chairs in front of Dave's desk.

"What the hell are you insinuating, Hotch?" Dave asked grouchily, wincing as he rolled his neck on his shoulders. JJ's recliner, while comfortable enough to sit on, wasn't exactly conducive to a decent night's sleep. But she hadn't fallen asleep until almost four in the morning and he hadn't had the heart to move her from the couch where he usually stretched out. "She called in the middle of the night, scared out of her mind. Would you have left her to fend for herself when she's having one of those nights? What was I supposed to do?"

"Dave, I wasn't trying to imply anything," Hotch replied calmly, aware that his best friend was working on limited resources of energy himself. "I'm just saying that, to some, it might look…."

"Don't even say it," Dave bit out, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I drove her to work this morning because she's had exactly three hours sleep."

"And you've had so much more than that?" Aaron inquired, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.

"I'm not overwrought, traumatized, and trying to manage a child on a daily basis. She is," Dave returned grouchily. Breathing deeply for several seconds as Aaron sat watching him silently. "Have people been talking?" he muttered. "So help me God, Aaron, I will cram my fist down the first bastard to even so much as imply that JJ has done something inappropriate," he threatened, his hackles rising at the thought of her enduring any more pain. She had enough to deal with without feeling like grist for the gossip mill.

"Not to my knowledge. I just wanted to warn you to be careful. I don't blame you for going when she calls. I'd do the same thing. All I'm trying to say is that you might want to be more careful about appearing to be a couple. You know as well as I do that some of our colleagues have nosy natures and enjoy taking a turn at the water cooler. For those that aren't aware of the entire situation, it might appear…suspicious."

"People need to get a fucking life and mind their own goddamned business," Dave retorted irritably.

Holding up a hand to forestall what could be the ramping up of the well-known David Rossi anger, Hotch said calmly, "And if we give them nothing to talk about, they will. Now tell me how she really is."

Dropping his head back against his leather chair, Dave let out a sigh, impatience mixing with frustration. "What can I say, Aaron? She's battered…not just on the outside but the inside, too. And I think the blows her soul has absorbed are worse than any bruise LaMontagne might have left on her body." Meeting the other man's eyes, he muttered, "Therapy threw her for a loop. She's hanging on by a thread, and she feels like the thread is gonna snap at any moment."

"But she's going to continue therapy, right?" Aaron asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared across the desk. "She can't _quit_, Dave."

"Don't look at me like I'm the anti-Christ in danger of stealing her soul," Dave protested, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "I'm the one who pulled strings to get her in with Jimmy, Aaron. And I happen to think she needs to talk to someone. She proved to herself that she could make it through the first session. She'll go back for the second."

"Sorry," Aaron apologized with a wince as he realized how much pressure he and the rest of the team were putting on Dave. Honestly, they'd each relied on him to find a way to bridge the distance JJ had put between herself and the rest of the world, partially because they all knew he was a determined son of a bitch that didn't cower in the face of adversity, but also because they all were aware he was stubborn enough to withstand JJ's icy reserve. Three marriages had trained him well. "I guess we're all relying on you to get through to her, Dave. She depends on you. She trusts you. But, I know that's got to be rough."

Glancing at Aaron, Dave waved a hand through the air. "Aaron, there isn't anything I _wouldn't_ do to make this easier for her. I just…." He trailed off, his eyes lifting to stare at the ceiling. "I just have to make my peace with the fact that there isn't anybody for me to punish for what's happened to her."

"I think we're all having trouble with that," Aaron agreed softly.

"How did a bunch of trained profilers miss the fact that one of our own was being tortured on a daily business? I mean, one of us, I could understand. But all of us?" Dave asked in disgust.

"I think we all knew something was off," Aaron mumbled, guilt creeping up his spine. "But, I just thought it was growing pains in the relationship. JJ has always been extremely private regarding her personal life. And honestly, I think she worked pretty hard to keep us from knowing. The why of that though….I don't know."

"Probably because she knew that if any of us had known, we'd have made merely putting a bullet in him look good. God help me, Aaron, but I want to kill him with my bare hands when I remember how she looked that night," Dave whispered, his chest tightening as he remembered that moment when she'd opened her door for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A couple of important notes for today, readers. First, there are officially two weeks left to nominate your favorite authors and stories for the 2012 Criminal Minds Profilers Choice Awards hosted by the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. The nomination ballot, rules, and category list can be found there. A link is provided on my profile page.**

**Also, Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum has also commenced the signups for our December challenge - the fandom's annual Christmas Gift Fic Exchange. If you are interested in passing along some Holiday joy, please swing by and sign up. Stories are the gifts that keep on giving. Please give this one a try.**

**As always, thanks to everyone that continues to read our stories!**

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Ten**

_As long as he lived, he was certain that he would never forget the sight that had met him when he had arrived at Jennifer Jareau's door on that fateful night a few weeks earlier. While he would have sworn that he had seen horror before, he learned that night that he had never experienced it in the fashion that she had._

_Her eyes had been as dark as midnight, the pupils widened and almost overwhelming her normally bright baby blues. Her son had been clutched against one side, and she had raised her shaking hand, and he had immediately recognized her service revolver clutched tightly in her white-gripped fingers. His own hand had shot out and grabbed the gun without a second thought, and to this day, he could still remember that he had registered the warmth of the barrel of the freshly shot weapon in his hand and the acrid scent of gunpowder clouding the air._

_Staring down into her pale face, her skin undeniably marred by a darkening harsh bruise against her left cheekbone, he had asked softly, "JJ, honey, where's Will?" Hell, he'd known the answer. He was never really sure why he'd bothered asking the question. The haunted shadows in her gaze confirmed the ugly suspicion that he'd had._

_She had merely shaken her head and clutched a whimpering Henry even tighter as she had dropped her forehead against her son's shoulder. He had noticed then that her clothes were in disarray, and he was certain that her blouse was ripped in places. Her throat was bruised heavily, clear handprints visible to both him and the officer beside him. _

_And he had no doubt what had happened._

"_He's gone," she'd answered tonelessly, stepping aside to allow them into the foyer._

"_Gone?" the young uniformed officer beside her had repeated, his face confused as he looked from her to Rossi. "Gone, how, ma'am? Gone, like he's no longer inside?"_

_Dave's blood had gone cold as JJ cocked her head and looked at the cop beside him. "No," she had stated flatly, no emotion behind her words. "He's in there," she whispered, crying out in pain when Henry's little foot had kicked out, hitting her in the stomach. _

_It had been her agonized gasp of pain that had sent him surging into motion. "JJ, sweetheart, give me the baby," he'd suggested, holding out his arms for the small child. "He'll be okay," Dave assured her when JJ automatically held her son closer. "I promise, JJ. Give him to me."_

_Something in his tone must have penetrated the fog surrounding her mind because she released Henry into his arms and sagged against the wall when he'd relieved her of the extra weight. "Where is Will, Jen? Where in the house?" he clarified as she slid down the wall, one hand pressed to her abdomen._

"_The living room," she replied vacantly, gesturing toward the great room. "He's in the living room."_

_Turning to the cop, he ordered, "Go check it out. I'll stay with her." Focusing on the baby he held, Dave searched for any obvious injuries to Henry and thankfully found none. The tiny child looked terrified, but otherwise unharmed._

_Unlike his mother._

_His mother looked as though she'd done battle with the Devil himself. And lost._

_A small trickle of blood escaped her parted lips and a serious bruise was forming on her left cheek. He suspected a broken jaw, but he wasn't sure. Her throat was covered in bruises and he realized that by the husky volume of her voice, in all likelihood, her vocal cords and throat were badly bruised, if not worse. "JJ, can you tell me where else you're hurt?" he'd asked, almost afraid to hear her answer._

"_I…I think he broke my ribs," JJ rasped, unable to take a deep breath. "I'm not sure."_

_Kneeling in front of her as he balanced Henry in one arm, he moved slowly, reaching a hand out to lift JJ's ruined shirt out of the way and see her belly. Noting the way she flinched and averted her face, he clearly recognized the imprint of a boot on her milky white flesh._

"_He beat you?" Dave had asked softly, knowing the answer instinctively. But, he'd needed to have her verify it. _

_Her jerky nod had been the only validation he'd gotten._

_Biting off a curse as Aaron Hotchner had arrived behind him, he muttered, "I'm going to kill the son of a bitch!"_

"_Too late," JJ had whispered wearily. "I killed him. He's already dead."_

**_$$000$$_**

"Dave?" Aaron's deep voice queried when the pensive man didn't respond to the sound of his voice again for the second time.

Blinking as he refocused on the man sitting across the desk from him, Dave flushed guiltily. "Sorry," he muttered. "Bad memories, man." Shaking his head in irritation, he complained, "They sneak up on me at the damnedest times."

"Think how JJ must feel," Aaron replied softly.

"I know," Dave agreed, nodding. "Which is why that, despite how it looks to the masses, if she calls me in the dead of night, I'm always gonna go."

Smiling faintly at the older man, Hotch replied, "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you might harbor more than a few deeper feelings for her, right?"

Pressing his lips together, Dave stared at the Unit Chief. "My feelings don't matter in this scenario."

"They matter, Dave," Hotch countered. "And sooner or later, you're going to have to talk about it and show those cards you've got pressed to your chest."

"I'm helping a friend through a rough time in her life, Aaron. Same as you and the rest of the team. We're doing what we can for her when she'll allow us to do it. Don't read more into it than there is."

Rising from the chair, Aaron snorted. "You've still got a good poker face for anybody that might be curious, Rossi, but I _know_ you. Just know that if _you_ need to vent, I'm around, okay?" he reminded his friend before walking out of Dave's office.

Sighing heavily as the door closed behind Aaron, Dave groaned. Things were definitely not going as he'd planned. Aaron's keen insight into his personal feelings had thrown him off balance. He'd worked damn hard to keep those feelings he had for JJ concealed, but evidently, he wasn't quite as good an actor as he'd hoped.

He only prayed that a certain vulnerable female continued to remain clueless about the true state of affairs within his heart.

* * *

**And one last special not to our readers:**

We invite you to check out the newest Kindle publications….**The Estate** and **Inescapable Eye of the Storm **(written by Sarah O'Rourke – the alter ego of ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969!) If you're looking for a sexy romp in the fiction world, then these books are for you.

When desire meets delicious depravity, the only place to be is at **The Estate.** This multi-chapter story draws you into the secretive world of hedonism among the social elite...and refuses to let you leave until you have experienced all the delicious depravity that The Estate has to offer. **Inescapable Eye of the Storm** is the first in a series of FOUR books that will draw the reader into the erotic yet chaos-filled world Abigail Donovan and Colin Storm – and each of them finds out that the storm on the inside is far more dangerous than anything Mother Nature could throw their way!

Both books are available on Amazon/Kindle – just search for Sarah O'Rourke! Check out the author's Facebook page at .com (slash) .507. A link is provided on our profile pages here at fanfiction!


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: We wanted to take a quick second and let everyone know that the FINAL voting ballot of The Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds Awards is up and live at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" forum. Please read all the rules before filling out your ballot.**

**Other activities ongoing at the forum are as follows:**

**Assignments for the Christmas Gift Exchange are available at the forum. If you signed up, please swing by and check it out. **

**We have also opened Chat Line threads for various pairings in the CM fandom. If you don't see the pairing you wish to discuss, just shoot me a private message and they'll be added promptly. There is also a thread discussing what viewers think of new profiler, Alex Blake. And finally there is a new thread discussing who your favorite pairings are on Criminal Minds and why.**

**We welcome everyone to swing by Chit Chat on Author's Corner and join the fun.**

**As ever, thank you for reading our work. We truly appreciate each of you.**

* * *

_**SPECIAL SIDE NOTE – Sarah O'Rourke (the professional pen name that ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969 use) has released a NEW book on amazon. Com – Please swing by and check out **__**"The Devil's Snare"**__**. Please check out our other books as well. They are **__**"Inescapable Eye of the Storm"**__** and **__**"The Estate"**__** And please feel free to friend Sarah O'Rourke on Facebook!**_

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Eleven**

Propping her chin on her fist, JJ fought to keep her eyes open as she stared at the case file lying on the office desk in front of her. Which was exactly what she had been doing for the last half-hour, reading and re-reading the same paragraph over and over.

And yet she couldn't remember a single word. Her mind was completely incapable of accomplishing the simplest tasks, and another wide yawn escaped as she tried to fight through the fatigue that was once again threatening to overtake her.

A soft tapping against her door invaded her sleepy thoughts, and she forced herself to blink as she straightened. "Come in," she called out, stifling a yawn once again.

The door squeaked slightly, and Penelope's blonde head poked through the gap. "Hey, Sunshine of my Soul! How's it hanging in here?"

Taking a healthy sip from her soda can, JJ swallowed, then rolled her eyes. "About the same as it was when you called to check on me an hour ago, Pen. I'm just fine."

Stepping inside and closing the door behind her, Garcia carefully eyed the woman before her. "And I'm the illegitimate heir to the British throne. Tell me another one, sugar pie."

"Garcia," JJ groaned, rolling her head on her neck, "I know you mean well, but I'm really not up for another discussion about my feelings. I have a therapist now, remember? If I talk to you, whatever will I bitch about to Father Jimmy later this afternoon?" Honest to God, she knew Pen meant well, but these little visits from the other woman to check on her so-called fragile psyche were driving her insane. She was still eating and breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, and trudging through life. What more did these people want from her?

Picking up the files that JJ had stacked in the chair in front of her desk in order to discourage visitors, Garcia dropped them on the corner of her friend's desk and planted her tush in front of the other woman. "I saw you come in with Rossi this morning," she remarked, settling in for a discussion.

"Good grief, Garcie! Is that what this morning's mental health visit is about? Don't you have better things to do than spy on me?" JJ asked, somewhat annoyed that her best gal pal had learned who she'd carpooled with to work this morning. She should have ignored Dave's argument that she was too tired to drive safely. If she'd taken her own car, she wouldn't be having this conversation.

"I wasn't spying," Penelope replied with narrowed eyes. "Is it my fault that I have a dedicated screen for the parking garage? I happened to look up and see you two getting out of his SUV."

Frowning, JJ shook her head. "It was no big deal."

"What was no big deal?" Garcia pressed, listening intently. Getting information out of JJ lately was worse than a trip to the dentist. Heck, at least the dentist gave happy gas to ease the nerves. JJ wasn't so generous. But the blonde was her best friend and for better or worse, she was gonna be there for her.

"Riding into work with Dave," JJ muttered, shuffling the piles of files on her desk nervously. "I mean, it's not like I was seen necking in the parking lot for crying out loud. He gave me a ride. That's all."

Remaining silent as she watched JJ fiddle with the stacks of paper on her desk, Garcia waited.

"I called him last night, okay?" JJ burst out after a few more seconds of shuffling. "I had a nightmare and I called him," she admitted more softly, swallowing hard as she stared at the center of her desk, uncomfortable with all the emotions rolling through her. God, what she wouldn't give for twenty-four straight hours of numbness. "It doesn't mean anything, Garcie. It was late, and I was scared. Since Dave was the ringleader in advocating therapy, I thought he should be the one to reap the rewards of it," she added sarcastically.

"We _all_ thought you needed to see the therapist, JJ," Penelope corrected, her lips twitching when JJ snorted in response.

"Yeah, I was at the intervention, Pen. As I recall, I was the star of the show," JJ retorted with a glare.

"And I might point out that it was actually Strauss that enforced Bureau policy regarding that therapy. Agent Rossi actually went to bat for you and conned the harpy into letting you talk to Father Jimmy rather than the shrink on staff," she reminded her friend dutifully.

"When exactly did you become a Rossi supporter?" JJ asked irritably.

"When he made it clear that he'd go to the ends of the Earth to help you," Penelope answered softly. "Jayje, you aren't even supposed to be back at work yet. You know that, right? I'm curious exactly how much of his soul he had to sell to maneuver your return already. Those are some pretty powerful favors he must have called in to pull that off, don't you think?"

"I get it, Penelope," JJ whispered as her shoulders stiffened. "I owe Dave a lot. I owe everyone a lot."

"I didn't say that," Penelope denied. "JJ, each one of us wouldn't rather it be any other way. We're only sorry we didn't see that you needed us sooner. It's okay to rely on us. It just seems like Agent Rossi has been able to help you the most."

"I don't know why, but I can talk to him, Garcie. _Really_ talk to him," JJ confided, her voice clouded with confusion.

"Why question it, sweets? If it helps you…if _he_ helps you, I say let him."

"It's not fair to keep dumping my emotional baggage on his door. He's not my own personal concierge through hell, Pen," JJ said with a half laugh.

"I think the Big Guy has navigated those corridors a time or two himself, JJ. He might just know the way out," Pen remarked blandly.

"You think so, Pen?" JJ asked quietly.

"All I know is that you have to reach out to someone. If that person is Rossi, I'm not gonna complain. At least I know that you'll be safe with him."

"Yeah," JJ mumbled. "But is he safe with me?"


	12. Chapter 12

_**Dear Friends,**_

_**It's been a while again, I know. With the hubby out of the country and both my kids birthdays during the month of February, it's been a hugely busy time. Oh, the joy of being a military wife! But, I'm trying to be more consistent with updates now. We'll see how it goes. To those who have asked, NOTHING is being abandoned. It's just taking me awhile to get updated. My writing partner and I are working to bring you both quality chapters of fanfiction AND new, professional work by our pen name, Sarah O'Rourke. Those books are available on amazon and kindle. I hope you'll check it out. ALSO, to those that have asked, our story, "Unexpected Surprises" is no longer available on fanfiction. We have taken it down to revamp it into an original work for Sarah O'Rourke. We'll let you know when it is available. We hope you won't be disappointed.**_

_**Thank you for sticking with us! We adore hearing from you!**_

_**All our best,**_

_**Ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**_

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Twelve**

Penelope Garcia was not a violent woman. She would have described herself as a conscientious pacifist, if such a phrase had truly existed. A nurturer by nature, it was not in her to be anything but supportive and caring. After all, didn't she care for the stray puppies and kitties in her neighborhood with as much fervor as she volunteered at the local homeless shelter, her entire goal to ease the hurting around her in any way possible?

And yet, as she sat in front of her best friend on the entire earth, Penelope suddenly felt a boiling rage rise in her with the swiftness of a volcanic eruption. Slamming her palm down on the desk in front of her, she all but yelled, "Tell me you did not just say that, Jennifer Jareau!"

To say that the other woman was taken aback would have been an understatement. JJ jerked backwards in her chair as her eyes widened. Holding up a hand, she tried to forestall the explosion that was sure to come. "Pen, you know what I meant…."

"What I know is that you are the most wonderful human being on the face of the earth and I will NOT allow you to doubt your own goodness," Penelope shot back as she frowned, narrowing her eyes as she tilted her head. "And anyone who dares to think otherwise will be dealing with me, sugar dumpling. Capisce?"

"I know that Dave and the rest of you are completely on my side," JJ replied with a sigh, now unfazed by her gal pal's histrionics. Penelope Garcia's flamboyant personality rarely caused her to bat an eye anymore. It was just who she was. And JJ loved her for it. "I've just been thinking…"

"Thinking what, Buttercup?" Penelope asked carefully. She'd never quite heard that particular tone in JJ's voice. Part hopelessness, part desperation, it sounded as though the woman in front of her had reached some kind of pivotal crossroads in life.

Looking up from her hands, JJ swallowed hard. "I've been thinking that maybe I should leave, Pen. Maybe it's time to just call it a day," she offered, gesturing weakly around her.

"JJ," Penelope breathed, her eyes widening in shock as she realized what the other woman was saying. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "I don't think that's the answer, sugar pie. Not a good one at any rate."

Leaning forward, JJ clutched the edge of her seat. "I thought I could come back here and move on. I really did, Garcie," she whispered. "But I can't. I think maybe I should just take Henry and go."

"Go? Go where?" Garcia questioned, trying to wrap her mind around this new development.

"Anywhere but here," JJ replied with a shrug.

"You know the pain is going to follow you wherever you end up, right?" a deep familiar voice noted from behind them.

Startled, JJ looked over her shoulder to find David Rossi propped negligently in the doorway to Garcia's office. "Dave! Has anybody ever told you that eavesdropping on a private conversation is rude and intrusive?" she asked with reddening cheeks.

Merely lifting an eyebrow, he met her gaze levelly. "I wasn't eavesdropping. I was listening. In an open doorway. If you wanted privacy, you should have closed the door. Furthermore, I think you're a little old to be running away from home," he chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I wasn't discussing _running away_," JJ retorted, arching one blonde brow. "It's called starting over," she clarified stiffly.

"Same difference," Dave returned evenly, unwilling to allow her to get away with a game of semantics. Shifting his gaze to Garcia, he offered her a crooked smile. "Do you mind lending JJ and me your office for a few minutes, Kitten? It seems that your pep talk isn't working in here. Maybe a little blunt honesty might help."

Quickly plucking a file from her desk, Garcia nodded. "I need to get the Boss Man's signature on a few forms anyway," she said, ignoring JJ's fuming look as she skirted around the desk. "Good luck," she murmured as she slid past him in the doorway. "I think you'll need it."

Waiting until Penelope was halfway down the corridor, Dave glanced at JJ before closing the door with a slow precise movement. "So," he drawled, turning to slowly walk toward where she sat, "You were telling Garcia about your plan to run away from home, huh?"

Nervously fidgeting with the button on her sweater, JJ muttered, "That's not exactly what I said, Dave."

"Let's cut the bullshit, JJ," Dave returned flatly. "Leaving is the wrong move. You run now…from these feelings…these memories…and you're going to be running all your life. Same problems, different town, babe. Face 'em here where you've got people around you to catch you when you fall."

"You don't think I've already fallen?" JJ grunted, glaring at the older man. "The way I see it, I've already hit the ground, bounced once and rolled under a semi."

Dropping one hand in his pocket, Dave lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Yeah, you took a hell of a hit. Nobody here is gonna try to deny that. But, if you think the answers you're trying to find are gonna be more obvious in a new location, you're fooling yourself."

Swallowing hard, JJ struggled to keep her composure. "Sometimes it seems like everywhere I look, there's a memory. Some are good, but there are a lot…there's a lot I'd like to forget."

"You can't forget something like the experience you endured, JJ," Dave returned softly. "I'll help you with anything you want. Except running. It won't solve a thing."

Sniffling, JJ lifted her head to stare at him. "I can't hold a gun, Dave," JJ whispered. "I made myself go down to the firing range. I couldn't even pick one _up_. How the hell do I hope to continue a career with the Bureau when I can't even _touch_ a firearm?"


	13. Chapter 13

_Don't forget to check out the newest writing challenge on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Deadline for signup is today, March 31, 2013._

* * *

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"How the hell do I hope to continue a career with the Bureau when I can't even _touch_ a firearm?"

Her question hung in the air between them, and Dave forced himself to remain visibly unaffected by the desperation in her voice even though he inwardly winced. "So, maybe you don't," he replied after a moment, meeting her gaze squarely. "I'm not saying you should or shouldn't consider other job options available to you. I do think it would be a mistake to try and make a decision that would influence the rest of your life while you're in the midst of an ongoing trauma. You've worked hard to come this far within the Bureau, JJ. It would be foolish to make a rash decision here. You know that."

"Rash?" JJ echoed incredulously. "I can't fire my weapon, Dave! I'm one of the highest ranking shots in the building, and I can't even hold my gun with a steady hand, let alone draw the trigger! I don't think there's anything _rash_ about the way I feel."

"I'm not trying to minimize it, JJ. What you aren't considering, however, is the fact that you haven't dealt with the reason that you can't hold that gun. It's highly possible…even probable…that once you've done so, that problem will be eliminated," he reasoned calmly. "Have you talked to Jimmy about it?" he asked.

"More talking," JJ groaned, her eyes flashing as she shoved an impatient hand through her hair. "My God, is that _all_ my friends and colleagues can suggest?"

"Seems like a better solution than uprooting your son and yourself from their familiar environment to God knows where in an effort to outrun what's going to be waiting on you _wherever _the fuck you land," Dave returned bluntly, his own dark eyes shining with irritation.

"Are you trying to help?" JJ asked weakly, hurt as his words hitting the mark within her. She tried to blink back tears as she stared at the man in front of her and tried not to feel betrayed. "I'm not exactly having a lot of fun with this truckload of emotional baggage I'm carrying on my back, Rossi. I want to move on. I'm _trying_ to move one."

Shit. She was crying. Watching as one hot teardrop slid from her eye only to be immediately followed by another and another, Dave felt his heart break. This wasn't what he'd wanted for her. He'd meant only to shock her with a reality check, to remind her that problems of her magnitude would follow wherever she went. He damn well hadn't meant to break that invisible dam inside her that she'd erected for her own self-preservation. He grimaced. "Honey, no, that isn't what I think," he hurried to assure her, quickly rising to cross the room to her. Her accompanying flinch as he neared made his gut clench. Nevertheless, he knelt in front of her. "JJ, I'm going to wrap my arms around you. That's all," he said softly, warning her of his intent before his arms moved.

She shook her head frantically as his arms rose and pushed against his shoulders. "No! No, I'm fine! I'm fine, Dave!" Her voice cracked as his hands surrounded her shoulders and tugged her forward. "I'm fine!" she managed before a harsh sob escaped against his collar.

"No, Bella, you aren't," Dave murmured, rocking her against him as she seemed to dissolve against his chest. "It's okay to cry," he soothed against her ear as her tears ran down his neck, shredding something inside him.

He meant what he said. She needed to purge those vicious emotions cycling through her. For weeks, she'd been as transparent as a sheet of glass, holding herself tightly together by sheer force of will. Now, he'd shattered that shield she'd built around herself. And while he knew he'd always feel guilty for doing it, he couldn't deny that it had been necessary.

Somehow she shifted from her chair to kneel on her knees in the floor in front of him. He felt her slender body lean against his and he tried to will some of his warmth into her as he chafed her too cool arms. Past all reluctance, her hands clutched his shirt as those heart wrenching cries continued. Rocking her in his arms as he drew her to sit, half in lap, half in the floor, Dave murmured all the comforting platitudes that men spouted when a woman they cared for fell apart in front of them. He knew they were just words to fill the emptiness…none of them really penetrating JJ's thoughts at the moment. But, damn…he _was_ a man…a guy that despised seeing a woman mistreated. And God alone knew that this woman had been tortured.

Physically. Mentally. Hell, probably in ways that he didn't want to imagine.

She subsided slowly over the course of the next several minutes until finally only the occasionally wet sniffle or audible gasp for breath escaped her lips. She sagged against him, the side of her face pressed against his shirt. She'd probably have impressions on her cheek from the small buttons. Resting his chin on her head, he murmured, "You can't keep running, Jen. You know I wanna help you…but I can't aid and abet your flight response."

She stiffened as the door to Garcia's office flew open and Morgan appeared in the doorway. Turning her face into Dave's chest to hide her swollen eyes, she saw Derek's fleeting wince.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry," he apologized, pulling the door toward him so that anyone that passed behind him in the hallway couldn't see what was unfolding inside the room. "Rossi, Hotch is waiting on you and me in his office, man."

"I'll be out in a minute," Dave said gruffly, sparing Morgan a mere glance in his direction.

"Gotcha." Morgan nodded, taking a step backward and closing the door promptly behind him.

Waiting until she heard the door close, JJ pushed out of Dave's surprisingly comfortable arms. She didn't like being touched at all these days, but after a few moments, she quickly settled against him. "Go," she said hoarsely. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

Rolling his eyes as she climbed a little unsteadily back to her feet, he grabbed the tissues off Garcia's desk and rose, too. "Here," he said softly, offering her the box over her shoulder while she tried to wipe the evidence of her outburst off her cheeks. "Use these." There wasn't much that could be done about the soggy spots on his shirt, but those were the least of his concerns. "You can't go on like this, JJ."

"Tell me something I don't know," she muttered into her Kleenex, a fresh wave of tears rising at his grim pronouncement. "Why do you think I've been considering alternate options?"

"Not what I meant," Dave grumbled with a frown. Damn, she was hardheaded…and determined to go to the worse possible plan, evidently. "JJ, we've got a four day weekend coming up for Labor Day. Why don't you and Henry come up to the cabin? It'd give you a chance to get out of the city for a few days."

"My mom and dad are taking Henry for a little mini-vacation up north," JJ replied, wiping the last traces of tears from her damp cheeks.

"Are you going to?"

"Well, no," JJ denied, turning to face him as she dropped the wadded tissues in the trash can beside the desk. "They wanted to give me a break for a bit."

Offering her a satisfied nod, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Even better. Come to the cabin. Get away for a while, Jen. We both know you'll make better decisions for your future if you are relaxed. And maybe we could do something about that gun hand," he said, nodding toward the palm resting at her side. "You know I have a range out there."

"Dave," JJ began, already shaking her head.

"You owe it to yourself to see if you can overcome this, JJ, no matter where you decide to go."

"There are already rumors beginning to circulate about us, Dave," JJ whispered hesitantly, her cheeks flushing slightly as she felt his gaze on her face.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Dave growled in frustration, rolling his eyes while his jaw hardened. "Do you think I give a shit what small minded people think, JJ?" He didn't have fucking time to worry about the masses when he was consumed with doing what was best for _her_. "Do you think I've got something planned other than what I just offered?" he asked harshly, his eyes narrowing on her face.

"What?" JJ balked, blinking quickly as she looked up at him. "No! Of course not!"

"Good," he stated flatly, meeting her eyes. "Then you shouldn't have a problem spending a few days with me. What time is Henry leaving Thursday?"

"T-two. Mom is meeting me downstairs in front of the daycare."

"Fine. You can just bring your go bag with you to work. We'll leave at five," he returned, turning to stomp toward the door.

"Dave! I can't just…"

He closed the door on her denial, exhaling only when he realized she wasn't following him. Spotting Derek at the end of the hall leaning against the wall, he merely raised an eyebrow when the younger man stepped forward. "Something you want to say, Morgan?" he asked in a bored voice.

"Just that if you break that woman back there, Garcia _is_ gonna put a contract out for your life and expect _me_ to fulfill it," Derek returned truthfully.

"You think that's what I'm trying to do, Derek? Break her?" Dave asked, his dark eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Nah, man. I think you're trying to fix 'er. And I think you may be the best chance that she's got, if you wanna know the honest truth. Just be careful, Rossi."

Nodding tensely, Dave continued down the hallway, Derek's words echoing in his head.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hello, friends! Quick announcement – For anyone interested, the June challenge (The Wedding Bells Challenge) is posted and available for signups at Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. We hope to see you there!**_

_**As always, thanks for reading!**_

**Gunpowder and Lead**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"You're going to do WHAT?" Aaron Hotchner exploded, dropping his hamburger back to the diner's plate in front of him. "Hell, Dave, I _knew_ I should have just eaten lunch at my desk!"

"For God's sake, Hotch, I invited her up to the cabin to try to get her past this insane fear of firing her gun, not to seduce a traumatized woman into my bed," Dave replied in disgust. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"You really want me to answer that?" Aaron retorted, glaring at his friend.

"Sure, but I'd think about your answer really hard first if you value that thousand watt grin you rarely use," Dave threatened with a cold smile. "This is JJ that we're talking about."

"As opposed to the hundreds of other beautiful women that you've seduced into your bed in your colorful past," Aaron quipped drily, well accustomed to Dave's threats. "Don't act like that isn't a pattern with you," he ordered sternly.

"Aaron, we've been friends for a lot of years, man, but you are now treading on a very thin line," Dave warned, his jaw flexing as he reached for his coffee cup. "She's thinking about leaving the Bureau. Fuck, she's thinking about leaving the _state_. You want me to shove my thumb up my ass and do _nothing_?"

Lifting startled eyes to Dave's face, Aaron paused, his mind suddenly attempting to comprehend the surprising information. "What?" he whispered.

"You heard me," Dave declared flatly, his tone implying that the other man was obviously being deliberately obtuse. "This morning, I walked in on a conversation she was having with Garcia and learned that we're about spitting distance from losing our girl altogether. So, you tell me, Aaron. You want me to sit on my hands or get my ass…and hers…in gear? Unless you think it would be better for her to let her go…."

"Of course I want JJ to stay here. We're her family, Dave."

"Exactly," Dave bit out succinctly. "Do you think you could do me the favor of shoving your sleazy innuendos up your ass for a while then while I try to put her head back together?"

"Look, that isn't what I meant to intimate and you know it," Hotch growled with a hard look at his older friend. "But don't bullshit _me_, Dave. You only go balls to the wall for women that you care an extreme amount about."

"And you wouldn't go to the wall for her, too?" Dave volleyed back at the younger man.

"You know that I would," Hotch acknowledged softly, mindful of the other restaurant patrons seated around them. "But, I don't share the same kind of feelings for JJ that you do, Dave."

"I don't know what you mean, Aaron. JJ is a member of our team… of this family. There's not much I wouldn't do for any of you when the chips are down."

"Dave, please stop trying to stonewall me," Aaron returned with a heavy sigh. "From the day you returned to this team, we both know that there was a spark there. You're personally involved here. And not in the one colleague helping another colleague kind of way. You've got feelings for her. That kind of situation can become explosive pretty damn fast. Don't you think things are volatile enough already?"

"I think you're imagining things," Dave muttered. Damn it, he hated that Aaron Hotchner knew him so well. After being privy to his three marriages and consequential divorces, however, the truth was that the guy _did_ know him. And even worse, he wasn't completely wrong. In a different life under different circumstances, JJ was exactly the kind of woman that he would have pursued.

Merely staring at his friend, Aaron waited. He'd gotten pretty good at simply waiting out the elder profiler over the years.

"Fine," Dave finally snapped. "JJ _is_ a beautiful woman inside and out. Any man would be lucky to be with her. And, yes, there was a time when I'd have given my left nut to be that lucky son of a bitch. Things, though, have changed. _She's_ changed. And right now, she needs our help. That's all I'm concerned with offering her. _Help_."

"I know you want to help her. Hell, I've encouraged you to help her. We all have. You've got to realize that right now, however, anything else…any kind of relationship with her…it would be doomed to fail. Her trauma isn't a foundation that you can build a healthy relationship on, is it?"

"Jesus, Aaron! Do you think I'm maneuvering her for seduction? I'm an asshole, but I've never been a pervert!"

"I'm saying," Aaron began, keeping his voice level and low, "that whether you are willing to admit it or not, your heart is involved here."

"No more than your own is," Dave deflected, his fingers fisting slightly as he attempted to avoid the subject. Aaron Hotchner was getting too damned close to the truth for his comfort level.

"Dave," Hotch admonished softly, his dark eyes boring into the other man. "How long have we known each other?"

"Damn it," Dave muttered under his breath. "Why can't you just leave it alone, Aaron? I'm not going to take advantage of JJ. I've done a lot of reprehensible things, but I've never stooped that low that I've taken something that wasn't mine to have."

"You think that I don't know that. I'm as concerned for you as I am for her. I was there that night, Dave. I saw your face when those doctors and nurses were cleaning her up. The pain. The fury. You aren't that good an actor and you couldn't hide what you were feeling that night."

"As I recall, we were all pretty pissed. You, me, Derek… hell, even Reid would have put a bullet in LaMontagne's head if the bastard had still been breathing," Dave countered darkly, arching one brow as he silently dared the other man to contradict the obviously true statements.

"But only one of us looked like _he'd _taken a round in the gut and that was _you_. I've never seen your hands shake before, Rossi. _Never_. And for three hours you couldn't even hold a cup of coffee."

"Fuck off, Aaron," Dave bit out, growing angrier. "Stop trying to make this into something it isn't. Unless you wanna lose JJ permanently, let me do what I've got to do to get her head back on straight."

"So, just ignore the fact that you've been in love with her for the past five years, huh?" Aaron asked, feigning lightheartedness that he obviously didn't feel at this point in the conversation.

Narrowing his eyes on the man seated across from him, Dave stiffened. "Aaron, as a friend, I'm telling you to stop."

"You aren't denying it, Dave," Aaron pointed out calmly. "And I think that says it all. Just be careful this weekend. I'm afraid JJ's not the only friend that I stand to lose if this all heads south."


End file.
